


Bird's Eye View

by johnegbert



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Character Death, Fluff and Angst, M/M, but like you KNOW IT HAPPENS COME ON DONT GIVE ME THAT BULLSHIT, it is almost entirely canon okay, its the fight with jack and bro okay so i mean, not au!!!, sad-ishstuck u__u, shitty fight scenes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-23
Updated: 2012-06-23
Packaged: 2017-11-08 08:38:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/441283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnegbert/pseuds/johnegbert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m sick of watching people I love die. First John, then Jade, now you. I don’t see why I always have to bear fucking witness to this kind of shit.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bird's Eye View

Your Bro and Jack Noir had been going head-to-head for god knows how long before you got there. Their power levels seemingly evenly matched, flashes of their bodies and swords connecting would be all you could really see from the distance you were at. Your perch on top of a small hill of mushroom-covered rocks was enough distance away that you could see the fight, but the combatants wouldn’t see you. Your shades were pushed up into your hairline, pushing bangs back and revealing once crimson eyes. Orbs focused on the high speed duel.

Your name is Dave Strider, and you might be a sprite now but that doesn’t mean your brother means any less to you now. You want him to win this fight. You want your Bro to be the hero and to save everyone from this hellish nightmare. 

So that’s why you plan on fighting along side him. You just need a good opening to do so. Wings on your back flap easily as you stand-by, watching. Waiting. You can see Bro’s feet touch down on the rock, and a little ways apart from him you see Jack’s feet touch down as well. Jack’s wings flap too, much like your own and you frown at the sight knowing the two of you received such wings from the same place. Black feathers drop around him as they move, Jack’s white lips move as well. Pronouncing words you assume are designed to rile your brother up, but you know Bro would still be keeping his cool. He was the master of cool.

You know you’re right when you see Bro slip his right hand around the bill of his hat, straightening it and paying no mind to the scornful smacktalk Jack offers him. Your lips perk at this, relieved that your brother is still  _your brother_  even after how ever many hours he’s logged in this stupid game. Jack’s mouth rips into a snarl and even from where you are you can see the intimidating point of his sharp teeth.

It’s as good a time as any, you decide, to step into the fight. So as Jack makes a step to approach your brother, his sword brandished in his only hand, you make a move to flash over next to Bro. When you’re there, you retrieve the sword through your own abdomen and give your Bro a nod of greeting before the both of you engage Jack.

At first, you’re convinced that you and Bro have an upper-hand. Not many people can really fend off one Strider, but being presented with  _two at the same time_? Surely Jack is severely overwhelmed. You can’t swing your sword as hard as Bro can, so your hits might be a little bit weaker, but your’s come in faster than his and you can start to see the slices in Jack’s hard body build up. Red lines start to pop up along his arms and torso; black feathers start to fall at an alarmingly fast rate. You can feel his exhaustion setting in and you know Jack isn’t going to be able to effectively fight you both off much longer.

The three of you separate for a moment, a swift breather slash stare-down and that’s when it happens.

The green light shrouds Jack’s entire being, gently lifting him from the ground and it’s a blinding sight really. The light is just so damn _bright_ , and despite the fact you’re wearing shades already, you find yourself shielding your eyes. The flashing light envelopes the entire area and you see it reflected off of Bro’s shades, off the oily water in the distance, off of the pendant around your neck. The terrifying green light takes over everything, and when it’s subsided… you look back up at your opponent, and nearly caw. Jack’s injuries are seemingly gone; only dark grey scars are remaining and even they seem to be fading as you watch. His once ovalish head now seems to resemble that of a dog and you hold the gasp that wants to emerge from your throat.

Jack doesn’t hold back the deep, threatening snarl that rips through his, however.

And he launches forward.

His speed is crazy and you notice even Bro struggling to keep up with the fight. The sound of metal clanging together rings in your ears and you realize Bro is officially on the defensive. Which is something you’ve never experienced or even seen.

He’s struggling.

You panic.

You fucking  _panic_  because your Bro doesn’t  _struggle_  in fights.

It’s about the same time that Jack slices his sword through your left wing (effectively severing the damn thing) that you realize this isn’t a fight you’re going to win. Your caw of pain screeches through the air and you catch a glimpse of the quirk of Bro’s eyebrows when your vision refocuses. His emotions are a thing that most people have trouble deciphering, but you have no trouble seeing the look of horror upon his face. And you definitely don’t miss the pinch of revenge.

You want to tell him to get out of there; to give up and save himself. It’s okay if you die here because you aren’t  _his_  Dave. You aren’t the alpha Dave anymore, so it’s  _okay_. However, you know all too well that Bro doesn’t run from fights. Even if he’s on the losing side.

You’re mildly distracted when Jack slices your abdomen, letting fresh orange creamsicle colored blood ooze out of the wound. Your right hand goes to hold the spot, instinctively trying to put enough pressure on the injury to stop the blood flow. The air starts to smell like your blood and your vision starts to fade in an out due to your now lightening head.

Bro gently pushes you away from the fight, giving you a stern glance out of the side of his shades, letting you see his own orange pupils. It makes you feel like a child, but you understand he’s looking out for you.

You want to bask in the fact that he doesn’t see you any differently than the “real Dave” but you’re finding that to be a hard task as you watch your brother continue this losing fight. Your consciousness is fading as you watch; and you can feel yourself start to sway to the side. You hit the ground with a soft  _thump!_  and your eyes slip closed.

It isn’t more than fifteen minutes later when you’re awoken by an ear piercing scream that you refuse to believe the source of. Unfortunately you already know where it came from. Your eyes are open, but your shades are still in place, so you’re fairly confident that Jack believes you’re still passed out. You look around, refusing to move from your spot on the ground, and try to spot Bro and Jack. Skinny black legs with tiny black feet appear directly in front of your eyes and you see Jack’s figure leaning over- what you refuse to admit is- Bro’s body.

And then he’s gone.

Black feathers drifting back to the ground in his wake, but Jack is gone.

When the sound of wings flapping is so distant you can hardly hear it, you start. Scrambling up, holding your abdomen, but scrambling to the side of your fallen brother.

Your hands rush up to your mouth and you push your shades up again when you take in the sight of him; impaled on his own sword and missing his shades. His hat is a few feet away, flecks of blood resting on it.

You want to throw up.

“Bro…” You gasp, hands moving to his shoulders and you try not to jostle the sword pinning him to the ground. “Bro…  _Bro_ …”

His eyes remain closed, but his lips part gently. “Dave,” he mutters weakly. “Are you okay?” And it makes you sick knowing he’s more occupied with your safety than his own self.

“Bro you have a sword through your fucking body.” You tell him, but he knows.

He manages a smile and you want to punch him in his stupid face for thinking this is funny. “Bro, you’re dying.” You can feel tears welling up in your eyes and you try to hold them back. “You’re  _dying_ , Dirk!”

“I’m sorry you gotta watch, lil’ man.” Is his reply and you can’t hold back the tears anymore.

“I’m sick of watching people I love die.” You mumble, and he pats at the feathers around your neck in apology. “First John, then Jade, now you. I don’t see why I always have to bear fucking witness to this kind of shit.” You curl your right hand into the sleeve of his shirt as another sob racks through your body. “It isn’t fucking fair.”

Your eyes squeeze shut and tears drip down your cheeks, landing on Bro’s chest and you know you look weak crying like a kid, but you _feel_  weak so it seems fitting. You feel his fingers lace through the fingers of your left hand and he brings them up to his face. “You fought hard out there, Dave.” He says, and you literally can not believe he’s going to talk to you about form at a time like this. “Makes me really fucking proud to call you my little bro.” His cheek is still warm but you don’t know how long that’s going to last. You can literally see the life draining out of him. “Keep the Strider name alive for me.”

Your stomach is turning and knotting as you watch Dirk’s eyes open a little, his orange eyes reflecting the unspoken love for you that you knew he always had. “You gotta do it yourself! You can’t-” The sob that comes out is hard and hurts your throat as you lurch forward, pressing your hands to the sides of his face. “You can’t leave me Dirk!” Your forehead touches his and you know your weak tears are wetting his face. “You can’t go I need my Bro, Dirk.”

You can actually feel his laugh on your face and it makes you cry harder. “Sorry, Dave.” His breathing starts to slow even more and you know it’s his last moments. His grip starts to fail and you can feel your heart breaking as his hand slides out from under yours.

You open your eyes to look at him and you wish you hadn’t instantly. Not that he looks any different, really, but the color in his skin is starting to fade and the freckles on his face seem too prominent with his paler skin and you want to rip your eyes out. You want to bring the color back to his face and you want to pretend this didn’t happen and you want to be back home in Texas, strifing in the hot sun on the rooftop.

Squeezing your eyes shut again you try to administer a life-bearing kiss, but you know it won’t work. Pushing your lips on your brother’s and it almost feels wrong but you can’t bring yourself to really care at this moment. You pry his lips open and try to breathe your own life into him, but when you know it won’t work you settle for trying to bring his tongue to life. That works for all of a few seconds when it goes limp and you know Dirk’s gone then, his lips no longer moving on yours and his breathing coming to a stop completely. You don’t feel the  _thump thump thump_  of his heart against your fingers anymore.

His body is cold when you finally pull away from him entirely. An arm coming up to your eyes and wiping at any remaining tears. The pendant around your neck soaked in the blood of your brother and you can smell that now too.

Glancing over at his sword, you decide to leave it be. You don’t think you could actually pull it out, even if you tried, so you abandon the idea. You float up, wincing remembering your own injuries, and take another long look at Dirk.

Your name is Dave Strider, and you just watched your only family die.

**Author's Note:**

> this was an idea for a drawing that i couldnt do that turned into an idea for a drabble that then became too long to be a "drabble" \m/


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